On the other hand, the art for 1079 is actually objectively good. It may make absolutely no sense as a comic, but this thing is legitimately pretty. This is probably a first for Randall. What's next, stick figures whose heads actually attach to their bodies? The mind boggles.

He's never actually drawn this well, or shown himself to be anywhere close to drawing this well. Either he decided to withold his ability over 1077 editions, or he miraculously got better overnight, or... and I'm going out on a limb here... the man who silently edits out his errors and whose pictorial commentaries display an arrogant, myopic worldview is also dishonest and got someone else to draw it.

I'm backing this guy, I can't believe Randall would be able to draw like this but resign himself to drawing stick-figures all the time... Unless this is some huge master-plan, and he's been biding his time to make us think he's terrible and unfunny, only for him to reveal his abilities, with a "Ha ha haters, look upon my true talent and tremble!!"

I came to this place looking for relief from the elitist, nerd-pandering, circle-jerking hive-mind that xkcd and its fanbase have become. What I've found has been repetitive, unfunny memes and copypastas, snobbish elitism, and the same kind of "look-at-me, look-at-me" attitude that I saw on the xkcd forums, except dressed up in offensive statements rather than "geeky" references. The whole experience felt uncomfortably familiar. You have more in common with the xkcd-fen than you think.

I especially find it hilarious how all of you are CONSTANTLY falling over yourselves to prove that you're the most SHOCKING and UNCARING commenter of them all. After awhile, it just starts to get sad. What's the point of any of it?

There are legitimate points of criticism in these comment threads, don't get me wrong - they're the only reason I keep coming back here - but the bad far outweighs the good here. Just my two cents.

I don't see how anyone can take this blog seriously since Carl left. Or at least since Rob started posting these one-liner embarrassments in place of reviews. This opinions of this blog used to come from a salient artistic position/taste, even when I disagreed with Carl or guest posters, I could follow their reasoning.

You've abandoned that. You assigning comics arbitrary grades with zero explanation, seemingly for no other reason than you feel obligated to say they're bad. There's no logic anymore. Good art, poor art, topical joke, outdated joke, geek reference, historical reference, clever pun, paraprosdokian, it doesn't matter, Rob will say it sucks, and it's up to the commenters to argue for him.

For a blog that's accused Randall of laziness so often, it's a remarkably lazy system.

I got so sick of drinking coffee all night long watching buildings burn on the televitz that I started drinking Coca-Cola about 3 am in the morning to stay awake. After I finished off a litre bottle, I cut the end off it and tried fitting the mouth over the end of the flash suppressor on the .203 - it was a perfect fit. I leaned the rifle over in the corner and thought that might make a good way to muffle the noise if I had to go up on the roof and snipe from the positions I had picked out the previous evening.

The news was best summarized as saying the gates of hell had opened in Los Angeles. The Koreans were engaged in firefights with looters from the roofs of their stores, in lieu of a police response. The National Guard was on the way, or so the reporters told us. Darryl Gates was getting asked complicated questions like why the police had been holed up inside the station for three days during the worst riots in United States history. He just gave'em dumb looks and shrugged. The looters were getting more sophisticated and organized, confident in the realization they could operate in an unhindered environment by any law and order. The coming day had a quality about it of climax - everybody had a buzz this was the threshold we were going to step over and see what was on the other side of the world we had known previously.

The fires had gone from local regions to widespread, now bursting into flame nearly everywhere and with no warning. The arsonists were using powerful accelerants and were effectively turning entire buildings into ashes in less than a half an hour in some cases. The live feeds were just and endless series of buildings one after another, starting to be addresses recognizable to me as only a few blocks south.

This is what the news told us, aside from martial law and curfew, when I rose from the couch that morning with the smell of woodsmoke in my lungs filling the air and my wife told me she needed fresh milk for breakfast and real bread. She brushed off my suggestion we use the powdered milk and cook the bread flour I had purchased. She didn't like the way it tasted. She pointed out how quiet it was outside this morning and said the rioters were probably sleeping it off indoors ... she said this was the perfect time to make a run to the Quick Mart for some staples. For some reason this made sense at that time. I soon discovered it wasn't so.

When I started to leave with the Desert Eagle in my hand, she screamed and said the police would shoot me if they saw me with it or arrest me on the spot. She said it was only two blocks and that I should just jog over, grab the groceries and jog back. So I left the Desert Eagle at home, thinking she was right and it wasn't worth getting shot by the cops over some milk and bread.

I didn't jog, I walked quietly and calmly down the alleyway with the sun still rising. I could hear birds chirping and some fire engines far away but otherwise the streets seemed empty.

When I turned the corner and could physically see the Quick Mart, a drunken looking black man, about in his fifties, came shuffling along. "You stretched us too far, white motherf**ker!!! See what you got! This is what you got when you stretch a man! How you like it, pink ass porky pecker!"

I turned around as he walked by and grabbed my crotch, facing him as I continued walking away. "Stretch this for me homeboy, I need another six inches on this thing. Do me a solid, homes, give this a good tug for me, okay?" We kept backing away from each other with ugly looks, he finally snorted and kept shuffling off.

I did not see another living soul until I made the front of the Quick Mart, which I could have sworn was closed and locked up like everything else with the lights out inside and one lone car parked out front. I tried the door just as a formality and it swung open. I stepped inside and said "Hello? Anybody in here? The door was open."

This was how the great battle of the Quick Mart began. You will soon hear how I used a 60 oz bottle of Gerber Baby Food as an expedient field artillery shell.

I just noticed that xkcd's favourite comics list now includes Oglaf. don't get me wrong, oglaf is fabulous, but for mr 'all my readers are still in high school' it feels a bit creepy to be putting it there on the front page. it's not like 'hey this comic is great, so what if it's a bit filthy' is it, it's kind of trouser-rubbing lech going 'go go gadget two lesbians doing it'

What the hell is this?

Welcome. This is a website called XKCD SUCKS which is about the webcomic xkcd and why we think it sucks. My name is Carl and I used to write about it all the time, then I stopped because I went insane, and now other people write about it all the time. I forget their names. The posts still seem to be coming regularly, but many of the structural elements - like all the stuff in this lefthand pane - are a bit outdated. What can I say? Insane, etc.

I started this site because it had been clear to me for a while that xkcd is no longer a great webcomic (though it once was). Alas, many of its fans are too caught up in the faux-nerd culture that xkcd is a part of, and can't bring themselves to admit that the comic, at this point, is terrible. While I still like a new comic on occasion, I feel that more and more of them need the Iron Finger of Mockery knowingly pointed at them. This used to be called "XKCD: Overrated", but then it fell from just being overrated to being just horrible. Thus, xkcd sucks.

Here is a comic about me that Ann made. It is my favorite thing in the world.

Frequently Asked Questions

Divided into two convenient categories, based on whether you think this website

Rob's Rants

When he's not flipping a shit over prescriptivist and descriptivist uses of language, xkcdsucks' very own Rob likes writing long blocks of text about specific subjects. Here are some of his excellent refutations of common responses to this site. Think of them as a sort of in-depth FAQ, for people inclined to disagree with this site.